


Emperors or Fools

by atomjenkins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, also idk how maruki's memory manipulation works, also this is kind of angst i guess lol, also this is post p5r bad ending, so i'm just kinda wingin it, so they are living in a super happy reality but they kind of vaguely sort of know it's not real?, some other characters get mentioned but only like once so, spoilers obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomjenkins/pseuds/atomjenkins
Summary: Goro Akechi enjoys a game of chess with his rival, Ren Amamiya. There's not a trace of darkness in his expression.AKA Ren and Akechi play chess post-P5R bad ending, and talk about how the world seems wrong to them, despite it being perfect for everyone else.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 90
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	Emperors or Fools

“Alright, I’m heading out. Don’t stay up too late.” Sojiro said as he pulled on his coat, bracing himself for the brief but cold walk across the street. When he got no response, he paused for a moment, half out the door, and gave a fond chuckle at the sight.

In Leblanc’s middle booth, Ren and Akechi sat across from each other, a chessboard on the table between them. A small pile of defeated white pieces sat next to Ren, while Akechi had a black pile of comparable size next to him. The two seemed not to have heard Sojiro, deep in thought as they were – Ren twirled a captured white bishop between his fingers absentmindedly, while Akechi sat back, his cup of coffee half full and forgotten about as the boy detective gazed intently at the board, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Sojiro cleared his throat, and both boys suddenly jumped, eliciting another laugh from Sojiro. “Sorry to disturb you. Looks intense.” He gestured at the board between them. “I’m heading out now. Make sure he goes to bed at a reasonable hour.” He said, nodding at Akechi.

“You can count on me, Boss.” Akechi said, with a pleasant smile. Sojiro couldn’t see Ren’s face, but he could quite easily visualise him rolling his eyes. “Thank you for the coffee. It’s perfect as always.”

Sojiro nodded and turned to the outside, giving a wave over his shoulder as he stepped out into the cool night air.

“Is the implication that _my_ coffee is anything less than perfect?” Ren said with mock irritation.

“Not at all, not at all. Were that the case, I would not imply, I would explicitly state.” Akechi smirked, taking a sip from his cooling mug before continuing. “Fortunately for you, your coffee is of a high enough quality to be comparable to Sakura-san’s.”

“You sure know how to charm a guy.” Ren said, leaning back to slouch on his seat more. He pointed the chess piece he had been playing with at Akechi suddenly, accusingly. “Hey. Don’t distract me. Your move.”

Akechi chuckled, and Ren felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He’d still not gotten quite used to this – whatever one might classify ‘this’ as – seeing Akechi so carefree and relaxed. Every time Akechi smiled at him, with him, around him, _for_ him – not the carefully composed, picture-perfect smile the Detective Prince flashed for the cameras, his _real_ smile – Ren found his heart skipping a beat. Akechi so rarely showed this side of himself around other people, so Ren had come to treasure the times when it was just the two of them.

“Very well then.” Akechi pondered for a moment, and Ren watched his eyes flick from piece to piece, calculatingly – before they settled on a knight, and Akechi moved it across the board in a precise, deliberate motion. Ren sat up in his seat again and took a moment to take in the board. He could feel Akechi’s eyes on him, watching and waiting for his next move. He gave a hum of concentration and took hold of a pawn, setting it down on the square in front.

A few more turns passed in comfortable silence, the two of them settling into their usual routine – Ren would take a quick glance at the board before making his move, Akechi would survey the scene, pour over every detail, consider every option before deciding what to do. Ren supposed that was his inner detective coming out – taking the time to analyse everything laid out before him – while Ren more acted on impulse. Akechi, being more versed in the game, had won most of the matches when they’d started out, but Ren had improved considerably over the course of their time together and now the games were much more closely fought, to both of their delight.

Akechi sat back after making his move, sighing. Ren leant forward, perusing the game before him, before his eyes snapped at a gaping hole in Akechi’s defence. In a swift, dramatic motion, he zoomed his bishop across the board to claim Akechi’s queen, knocking the piece aside with a triumphant declaration of; “Boom!”

His outcry seemed to startle Akechi, who had been gazing at Ren with a look of intense focus. He looked first at the board, then at his defeated queen, before frowning. “Hmm. A blunder on my side. Well played.” He said dismissively, before his eyes seemed to glaze over in concentration again.

Ren blinked. Normally such a move would have provoked more of a reaction from Akechi. Be it frustration at himself for such an oversight or scolding Ren for his theatrics through suppressed laughter (“Remind me how old you are again, Amamiya-kun?”) or frantic shushing for fear of waking the neighbours or Morgana – just _something_.

Ren frowned and lightly nudged Akechi’s arm. “Hey,” he said, his tone gentle. “are you alright? You look like you’re deep in thought about something.”

“I am.” Akechi agreed, before pausing, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That is, I…no, I…I’m not sure if I’m alright.” There was something suddenly panicked about his delivery, and he withdrew his hands to hold them close to his chest, his eyes darting around the room. “I…”

“Akechi?” Ren tried to hide the slight panic in his own voice as Akechi seemed to squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “Goro?” He tried again, and that seemed to draw Akechi’s attention back to him.

“Forgive me, I…” Akechi stammered, grasping the edge of the table tightly. He remained like that for a moment, hunched, before he let out a long, deep breath, the coiled tension in his stiffened posture dissipating. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “My apologies, Amamiya-kun, I was just…thinking about something.”

“Didn’t seem like anything good.” Ren said gravely. “Are you alright?”

“Quite.” Akechi said, adjusting his tie and fiddling with his gloves. “I…it’s ridiculous really, I’m not sure why I suddenly thought…” He shook his head in exasperation, before fixing Ren with a scrutinizing look. Ren gazed back at him earnestly, and Akechi shifted awkwardly in his seat. “I…I’ve just been having these thoughts lately…these…just bizarre, illogical thoughts…I can’t really explain them but I just…” He grimaced. “Do you ever feel as though this is…wrong?”

A moment passed in silence. “Wrong?” Ren asked. “What do you mean?”

“This.” Akechi said, his face sullen as he gestured wildly to the chess board, then to Ren, then to the rest of Leblanc. “This is all…wrong.”

“That…that doesn’t really…”

“I’m _aware_ that doesn’t explain it.” Akechi suddenly snapped, before his expression softened with regret. “Sorry.” He said quickly, not meeting Ren’s gaze, his tightly clenched fists resting on the table in front of him. “I’m just…not sure _how_ to explain it.”

Ren reached over and brushed his fingers lightly against Akechi’s gloved hands, eliciting a small gasp from the other boy. “It’s okay.” Ren said gently, and he carefully prised open Akechi’s fist to entwine their fingers together. “Just…try?” He gave Akechi’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Akechi sighed, his eyes slipping shut, and nodded. “I sometimes…I sometimes get this feeling, in the back of my mind, that something is just…wrong. Wrong with the world…or maybe wrong with me.” Ren grimaced at that. “It’s like something I can see lingering in the corner of my eye, but every time I turn to look it’s gone. There’s something dancing just out of reach, and I _know_ it’s there, but I don’t know what it is. It’s deeply frustrating.” He paused, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “I feel as though, I don’t know, things are out of place. Or that…the rest of the world fits so neatly together and I’m a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t go anywhere. I’m…I’m happy, of course I’m happy.” He smiled at Ren weakly. “But I don’t know _why_ I’m happy. And it feels…false?” He frowned, as if he were lacking in a better way to describe it.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You deserve to be happy, Akechi.” Ren said, running his thumb over Akechi’s hand.

“Do I?” Akechi scowled. “This isn’t a question of my opinion anyway. I just feel as though…I was in some situation that would make this…impossible.” He suddenly glared at Ren, catching him off guard slightly. “How did this happen? Why are we friends? How did we meet?” He said, pulling his hand away from Ren, who almost flinched at the sudden change in demeanour – what was this, an interrogation?

“At the TV station.” Ren recalled. “We were there on a school trip. You were being interviewed about the Phantom Thieves’ latest case…” He paused, a strange sensation overcoming him. Akechi tensed. “I can’t…” Ren said, his head suddenly throbbing with pain. “I can’t…remember…”

“Neither can I.” Akechi said, quietly. “Try something else. You defeated the God of Control on Christmas Eve, right? Tell me about it.” His voice had a sudden insistent, determined edge.

Ren thought back to the Day of Reckoning, to his band of thieves standing on the brink of reality’s collapse. That same pain began to pulsate in his head again. “We fought the Holy Grail in the depths of Mementos…it erased us from reality, but we managed to get out from the Velvet Room and confront Yaldabaoth. I summoned Satanael, and…”

“Was I there with you?” Akechi said softly. Ren froze.

“I…” The pain was so intense now, but there was also something else – Ren felt as though there was something so close, just within his grasp – a memory, even the vaguest hint or seed of one – if only he could just reach out, grit his teeth through the pain… “I…I don’t…remember. I feel as though…” He looked at Akechi, concerned. “You…weren’t there?” His tone was questioning. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure, and that worried him. He could remember nearly everything else about that day so clearly, so vividly – they’d fought a _god_ , for goodness sake, how could he _forget_ anything about that?

“I thought so.” Akechi said eventually, flatly. “I’m certain I fought alongside you before that, at Sae-san’s Palace. And yet I wasn’t with you later on…but I’m here with you now. Hmm…interesting.”

Ren glanced up. Akechi had a blank expression on his face. “What…what does this mean?”

“It doesn’t _mean_ anything.” Akechi said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a detective. I draw logical conclusions based on facts and evidence. Thoughts and feelings don’t enter into the equation. It’s only natural for me to want to find the solution to every problem standing in my way, to uncover that last detail that explains away the contradictions. But…I can’t explain this. I can’t _do anything_ with this except _think_ about it incessantly and drive myself mad because it doesn’t make sense to me. And I feel as though I should know _why_ it doesn’t make sense, but every time I try to think about it, this damn–!” He slammed his hand on the table suddenly, breathing heavily.

Ren fell silent. What Akechi was saying rang true. Sometimes – no, quite often – Ren had felt this strange sensation of something being…off. Off with his friends, off with himself, off with _the world_. He’d not dwelled on it – he’d pushed it aside, chalked it up to insecurity, or explained away things that didn’t sit quite right with the excuse of poor memory – but in truth, that unsettling feeling had never truly gone away. And now, sitting here, digging deeper into his memories that didn’t make sense, the pain clawing at him from the inside – that feeling of unease began to spread through his whole body.

The room around him began to spin, and he felt a feeling of nausea take hold. The world came apart at the seams, dissolving into a whirlwind of dissonant colours. Through the intense pain and sickness he found thoughts he’d buried away resurfacing – how was it he came to know his friends when so many of their bonds had been born from the pain they’d suffered? Pain and trauma – Ren was realising – that had never happened.

Ann and Ryuji lived out dreams unimpeded by Kamoshida, Yusuke spoke of Madarame with infinite respect and adoration, Futaba enjoyed a wonderful relationship with her mother and Haru thrived in business alongside her father – but how could that be? The friendships he had forged with the Phantom Thieves had been bonds born from trauma and betrayal and loss and suffering, and had over time developed into something stronger; two hearts entwining themselves together in solidarity and comfort. Had the Phantom Thieves not been born out of a desire to correct injustice? But as Ren thought, he felt as though he could barely remember anything bad or wrong or unjust ever happening – not to him, not to any of his friends, not ever, so how…?

Something reached out from the unravelling whirlwind around him and gripped his shoulders firmly. Ren instinctively clutched at it – gloved hands resting on his shoulders, holding him steady.

“Ren,” Akechi’s voice cut through the dizzying blur of the world coming undone around him. “it’s alright.” A pause. “I’m here.”

“But we…defeated…” He spoke slowly, still feeling shaken. “The God of Control. We stopped him.” Of that he felt certain – that and few other things – but he spoke as firmly as he could. “What else could…?”

“Cause a delusion on such a grand scale?” Akechi finished, his grip slightly loosening on Ren’s shoulders, but he didn’t let go. “Another thing I can’t explain.” He chuckled. “It’s quite possible that _I_ am the one who is deluded, you know. Doesn’t that seem much more likely?”

“No, you’re–” Ren said almost immediately, before stopping himself. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said that so quickly.

Akechi gave a hollow laugh. “No, you’re quite right. You feel the same way, don’t you? That something is wrong, and we’re the only ones who have noticed. Why us, I wonder?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Strange…I feel like…ah, well…I suppose it doesn’t matter now. No matter how many times we come to this question, I doubt we’ll ever know the answer.” He grimaced and took his hands away from Ren’s shoulder before glancing at the other boy knowingly. “We could have had this conversation dozens of times before this already, I’m not sure I’d trust myself to remember.” He sighed again – wearily, like an admission of defeat – and Ren’s blood ran cold.

“What about me? Would you trust me?” He asked. Akechi studied him for a long, intense moment. Ren could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“…I’m not sure.” He said eventually, and his words were slow and deliberate – there was no malice behind them, but they still severed something in Ren’s heart. “I thought I would, but…I get this feeling that…trust is something…we are beyond now. As if we have wounded each other so deeply, cut away so much that there is nothing left.” He chuckled – and the sound made Ren sick.

Almost like an automatic response to Akechi’s words, Ren twirled a lock of his hair in thought, his fingers brushing against his forehead. “I…I wouldn’t think that about you. And I…wouldn’t…I would never want to hurt you like that.” He reached out his hand again, but Akechi looked away, focusing on their abandoned chess game as his gaze hardened into something strange.

“No…” Akechi said, his voice cold. “…though I suppose we all make wishes that don’t come true.” His eyes flicked to Ren, then to the space just in front of Leblanc’s counter. His gaze lingered there for what felt like an eternity, and Ren could see his lips fluttering as he mumbled something under his breath – something he seemed to have to focus on, as if he were recalling a conversation – and his frown only deepened, the look in his eyes only grew more detached with each passing moment.

Eventually Ren could stand this silence no longer. “Akechi?”

Akechi’s eyes snapped to Ren, and for a moment, there was such an intense burning _hatred_ in his eyes that Ren nearly jumped out of his skin. But it vanished before he could even be sure if it had been there at all, replaced by a veil of geniality. Akechi smiled and Ren’s heart sank – a perfectly composed and carefully controlled expression of happiness settled on the Detective Prince’s face; a façade, a mask, a _lie_.

“I’ll see myself out.” He said pleasantly, before gesturing to the board. “I think our game is over now.”


End file.
